We were just getting off of an elevator, Russ, Garrett and myself. And there stood a girl, about 23 or 24 years old. She had bleached-blond hair in a ponytail, too thin eyebrows, a tiny frame, and fake boobs. She was in that classic “I’m a stripper (or porn star) off-duty look, which consists of a sweatshirt and leggings with tennis shoes or uggs. Three three of us were mid-conversation and, all of a sudden, it stopped. Well, Russ and I were still conversing, but Garrett had dropped out of the conversation.

Russ and I took two or three steps and realized G was still standing there, by the elevator. He was staring at her like she was a unicorn. He literally could not take his eyes off of her. Imagine your husband watching a big play in a game and you ask him a question. Picture him, his mouth slightly open. He can hear you but it’s like you’re far away, in a tunnel somewhere, and he can only hear your echo. And finally a commercial comes and he turns his head. That was Garrett. But it wasn’t a game. It was a girl by an elevator.

When she made her move to the door, he turned to us and acted like that moment never happened. “MOM! Be a styracosaurus!” But Russ and I could not stop laughing. I swear, we were both DYING laughing because we couldn’t believe what we just saw. We’ll have to remember that girl to see if she’s the type G ends up being “into”. It was too much. I know, years from now, when he’s really checking out the girls like that, I’ll long for the days where he snapped out of it and asked me to be a dinosaur.

Frickin’ floozy. Oops sorry! That just slipped out.

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